Rezanov, by Gertrude Atherton

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lifted his voice in derision, while the young friar, arecruit at the Mission, and far from enamored ofhis task, strained at the rope, and an Indian peltedthe hindquarters with stones. Suddenly, the muleflung out his heels, the enemy in the rear sprawled,the rope flew loose, the beast with a loud bray fledtoward the willows of Dolores. But the youngpriest was both agile and angry. With a flying leaphe reached the heaving back. The mule acknowl-edged himself conquered. The body-guard trottedon their own feet, and the party disappeared rounda bend of the hills.

Rezanov laughed heartily and even the glum vis-age of Father Abella relaxed.

"It is a common sight, Excellency," he said. "Weare thankful to have a younger friar for suchfatiguing work. Many a time have I belaboredstubborn mules and bestrode bucking mustangswhile searching for one of these ungrateful but nodoubt chosen creatures. It is the will of God, andwe make no complaint; but we are very willing,Father Landaeta and I, that youth should cool itsardor in so certain a fashion while we attend to themore reasonable duties at home."

They were dismounted at the door of the church.The horses were led off by waiting Indians. Thesoldiers on guard saluted and stepped aside, andthe party entered. Two priests in handsome vest-ments stood before the altar, but the long dim navewas empty. The Russians had been told that amass would be said in their honor, and theymarched down the church and bent their kneeswith as much ceremony as had they been of thefaith of their hosts. When the short mass wasover, Rezanov bethought himself of Concha's re-quest, and whispering its purport to Father Abellawas led to a double iron hoop stuck with tallow dipsin various stages of petition. Rezanov lit a candleand fastened it in an empty socket. Then with awhimsical twist of his mouth he lit and adjustedanother.

"No doubt she has some fervent wish, like allchildren," he thought apologetically. "And whetherthis will help her to realize it or not, at least it willbe interesting to watch her eyes--and mouth--when I tell her. Will she melt, or flash, or receivemy offering at her shrine as a matter of course?I'll surprise her to-night in the middle of a dance."

He deposited a gold piece among the candles onthe table and followed Father Abella through a sidedoor. A corridor ran behind the long line of roomsdesigned not only for priests but for travellers al-ways sure of a welcome at these hospitable Mis-sions. Father Abella shuffled ahead, halted on thethreshold of a large room, and ceremoniously in-vited his guests to enter. Two other priests stoodbefore a table set with wine and delicate confec-tions, their hands concealed in their wide brownsleeves, but their unmatched physiognomies--the onelean and jovial, the other plump and resigned--alight with the same smile of welcome. FatherAbella mentioned them as his coadjutor FatherMartin Landaeta, and their guest Father Jose Uriaof San Jose; and then the three, with the scant ritesof genuine hospitality, applied themselves to the tick-ling of palates long unused to ambrosial living. Re-sponding ingenuously to the glow of their home-made wines, they begged Rezanov to accept the Mis-sion, burn it, plunder it, above all, to plan his ownday.

"I hope that I am to see every detail of your greatwork," replied the diplomatic guest of honor. "Butat your own leisure. Meanwhile, I beg that youwill order one of your Indians to bring in the littlepresents I venture to offer as a token of my respect.You may have heard that the presents of his Im-perial Majesty were refused by the Mikado ofJapan. I reserved many of them for possible use inour own possessions, particularly a piece of cloth ofgold. This I had intended for our church at NewArchangel, but finding the priests there more inneed of punishment than reward, I concluded tobring it here and offer it as a manifest of my ad-miration for what the great Franciscan Order ofthe Most Holy Church of Rome has accomplishedin the Californias. Have I been too presump-tuous?"

The priests all wore the eager expressions of chil-dren.

"Could we not see them first?" asked Father Lan-daeta of his superior; and Father Abella sent a ser-vant with an order to unload the horse and bring inthe presents.

Not a vestige of reserve lingered. Priests andguests sat about the table eating and drinking andchatting as were they old friends reunited, andRezanov extracted much of the information he de-sired. The white population--"gente de razon"--of Alta California, the peculiar province of theFranciscans--the Jesuits having been the first toinvade Baja California, and with little success--numbered about two thousand, the ChristianizedIndians about twenty thousand. There were nine-teen Missions and four Presidial districts--SanDiego, close to the border of Baja California, SantaBarbara, Monterey, and San Francisco. Each Mis-sion had an immense grant of land, or rancho--generally fifteen miles square--for the raising oflive stock, agricultural necessities, and the grape.At the Presidio of San Francisco there were someseventy men, including invalids; and the numbervaried little at the other military centres, Rezanovinferred, although there was a natural effort to im-press the foreigner with the casual inferiority ofthe armed force within his ken. Cattle and horsesincreased so rapidly that every few years there wasa wholesale slaughter, although the agriculturalyield was enormous. What the Missions were un-able to manufacture was sent them from Mexico,and disposed of the small salaries of the priests;the "Pious Fund of California" in the city ofMexico being systematically embezzled. The firstPresidio and Mission were founded at San Diegoin July of 1769; the last at San Francisco in Sep-tember and October of 1776.

Rezanov's polite interest in the virgin countrywas cut short by the entrance of two Indians carry-ing heavy bundles, which they opened upon the floorwithout further delay.

The cloth of gold was magnificent, and the padreshandled it as rapturously as had their souls and fin-gers been of the sex symbolized while exalted by theessence of maternity, in whose service it would beanointed. Rezanov looked on with an amusedsigh, yet conscious of being more comprehendingand sympathetic than if he had journeyed straightfrom Europe to California. It was not the first timehe had felt a passing gratitude for his uncomfort-able but illuminating sojourn so close to the springsof nature.

The priests were as well pleased with the piecesof fine English cloth; and as their own homespunrobes rasped like hair shirts, they silently but uni-formly congratulated themselves that the color wasbrown.

Father Abella turned to Rezanov, his saturninefeatures relaxed.

"We are deeply grateful to your excellency, andour prayers shall follow you always. Never havewe received presents so timely and so magnificent.And be sure we shall not forget the brave officersthat have brought you safely to our distant shores,nor the distinguished scholar who guards your ex-cellency's health." He turned to Langsdorff andrepeated himself in Latin. The naturalist, whosesharp nose was always lifted as if in protest againstoversight and ready to pounce upon and penetratethe least of mysteries, bowed with his hand on hisheart, and translated for the benefit of the officers.

"Humph!" said Davidov in Russian. "Much theChamberlain will care for the prayers of the Cath-olic Church if he has to go home with his cargo.But he has a fine opportunity here for the displayof his diplomatic talents. I fancy they will avail himmore than they did at Nagasaki--where I am toldhe swore more than once when he should have kow-towed and grinned."

"I shouldn't like to see him grin," replied Khos-tov, as they finally started for the outbuildings. "Ifhe could go as far as that he would be the mostterrible man living. Were it not for the fire in himthat melts the iron just so often he would be craftyand cruel instead of subtle and firm. He is a for-tunate man! There were many fairies at his cradle!I have always envied him, and now he is going towin that beautiful Dona Concha. She will look atnone of us."

"We will doubtless meet others as beautiful atthe ball to-night," said Davidov philosophically."You are not in love with a girl who has barelyspoken to you, I suppose."

"She had almost given me a rose this morning,when Rezanov, who was flattering the good DonaIgnacia with a moment of his attention, turned toosoon. I might have been air. She looked straightthrough me. Such eyes! Such teeth! Such a form!She is the most enchanting girl I have ever seen.And he will monopolize her without troubling tonotice whether we even admire her or not. Prayheaven he does not break her heart."

"He is honorable. One must admit that, if hedoes fancy his own will was a personal gift fromthe Almighty. Perhaps she will break his. I neversaw a more accomplished flirt."

"I know women," replied the shrewder Khos-tov. When men like Rezanov make an effort toplease--" He shrugged his shoulders. "Somemen are the offspring of Mars and Venus and mostof us are not. We can at least be philosophers.Let us hope the dinner will be excellent."

VII

It proved to be the most delicate and savory repastthat had excited their appetites this side of Europe.The friars had their consolations, and even DonaIgnacia Arguello was less gastronomic than FatherLandaeta. Rezanov, whose epicurianism had sur-vived a year of dried fish and the coarse luxuriesof his managers, suddenly saw all life in the light ofthe humorist, and told so many amusing versions ofhis adventures in the wilderness, and even of hismisadventure with Japan, that the priests chokedover their wine, and Langsdorff, who had not agrain of humor, swelled with pride in his chancerelationship to a man who seemed able to manip-ulate every string in the human network.

"He will succeed," he said to Davidov. "He willsucceed. I almost hoped he would not, he is so in-different--I might almost say so hostile--to myown scientific adventures. But when he is in thismood, when those cold eyes brim with laughter andordinary humanity, I am nothing better than hisslave."

Rezanov, in reply to an entreaty from FatherUria to tell them more of his mission and of thestrange picture-book country they had never hopedto hear of at first hand, assumed a tone of greatfrankness and intimacy. "We were, with astound-ing cleverness, treated from the first like an audi-ence in a new theatre. After we had solemnly beentowed by a string of boats to anchor, under thePapen mountains, all Nagasaki appeared to turnout, men, women and children. Thousands of littleboats, decorated with flags by day and colored lan-terns by night, and filled with people in gala attire,swarmed about us, gazed at us through telescopes,were so thick on the bay one could have traversedit on foot. The imperial sailors were distinguishedby their uniforms of a large blue and white check,suggesting the pinafores of a brobdingnagian baby.The barges of the imperial princes were coveredwith blue and white awnings and towed to the soundof kettledrums and the loud measured cries of theboatmen. At night the thousands of illuminatedlanterns, of every color and shade, the waving offans, the incessant chattering, and the more har-monious noise that rose unceasingly above, made upa scene as brilliant as it was juvenile and absurd.In the daytime it was more interesting, with thebackground of hills cultivated to their crests in theform of terraces, varied with rice fields, hamlets,groves, and paper villas encircled with little gardensas glowing and various of color as the night lan-terns. When, at last, I was graciously permitted tohave a residence on a point of land called Megasaki,I was conveyed thither in the pleasure barge of thePrince of Fisi. There was place for sixty oarsmen,but as one of the few tokens of respect, I was en-abled to record for the comfort of the mighty sov-ereign whose representative I was, the barge wastowed by a long line of boats, decorated with flags,the voices of the rowers rising and falling in meas-ured cadence as they announced to all Japan thehonor about to be conferred upon her. I sat on achair of state in the central compartment of thebarge, and quite alone; my suite standing on araised deck beyond. Before me on a table, mar-vellously inlaid, were my credentials. I was sur-rounded by curtains of sky-blue silk and panels ofpolished lacquer inwrought with the Imperial armsin gold. The awning of blue and white silk waslined with a delicate and beautiful tapestry, and thereverse sides of the silken partitions were of canvaspainted by the masters of the country. The pol-ished floor was covered by a magnificent carpetwoven with alarming dragons whose jaws pointeddirectly at my chair of state. And such an escortand such a reception, both of ceremony and ofcuriosity, no Russian had ever boasted before.Flags waved, kettledrums beat, fans were flung intomy very lap to autograph. The bay, the hills, werea blaze of color and a confusion of sound. Thebarracks were hung with tapestries and gay silks. I,with my arms folded and in full uniform, my fea-tures composed to the impassivity of one of theirown wooden gods, was the central figure of thismagnificent farce; and it may be placed to the ever-lasting credit of the discipline of courts that notone of my staff smiled. They stood with their armsfolded and their eyes on the inlaid devices at theirfeet.

"When this first act was over and I was lockedin for the night and felt myself able to kick my waythrough the flimsy walls, yet as completely a pris-oner as if they had been of stone, I will confessthat I fell into a most undiplomatical rage; andwhen I found myself played with from month tomonth by a people I scorned as a grotesque mix-ture of barbarian and mannikin, I was alternatelyinfuriated, and consumed with laughter at the van-ity of men and nations."

His voice dropped from its light ironical note,and became harsh and abrupt with reminiscent dis-gust. "And the end of it all was failure. Thesuperb presents of the Tsar were rejected. Thesepresents: coats of black fox and ermine, vases offossil ivory and of marble, muskets, pistols, sabers,magnificent lustres, table services of crystal andporcelain, tapestries and carpets, immense mirrors,a clock in the form of an elephant, and set withprecious stones, a portrait of the Tsar by Madamele Brun, damasks, furs, velvets, printed cotton,cloths, brocades of gold and silver, microscopes,gold and silver watches, a complete electrical ma-chine--presents in all, of the value of three hundredthousand roubles, were returned with scant cere-mony to the Nadeshda and I was politely told toleave.

"But the mortification was the least of my wor-ries. The object of the embassy was to establish notonly good will and friendship between Russia andJapan, for which we cared little, but commercialintercourse between this fertile country and ournortheastern and barren possessions. It would havebeen greatly to the advantage of the Japanese, andGod knows it would have meant much to us."

Then Rezanov having tickled the imaginationsand delighted the curiosity of the priests, began toplay upon their heartstrings. His own voicevibrated as he related the sufferings of the servantsof the Company, and while avoiding the nomen-clature and details of their bodily afflictions, gaveso thrilling a hint of their terrible condition that hisaudience gasped with sympathy while experiencingno qualms in their own more fortunate stomachs.

He led their disarmed understandings as fardown the vale of tears as he deemed wise, then per-mitted himself a magnificent burst of spontaneity.

"I must tell you the object of my mission toCalifornia, my kind friends!" he cried, "although Ibeg you will not betray me to the other powers untilI think it wise to speak myself. But I must haveyour sympathy and advice. It has long been mydesire to establish relations between Russia andSpain that should be of mutual benefit to the col-onies of both in this part of the western hemis-phere. I have told you of the horrible conditionand needs of my men. They must have a share inthe superfluities of this most prodigal land. But Imake no appeal to your mercy. Trade is notfounded on charity. You well know we have muchyou are in daily need of. There should be a bi-yearly interchange." He paused and looked fromone staring face to the other. He had been wisein his appeal. They were deeply gratified at beingtaken into his confidence and virtually asked to out-wit the military authorities they detested.

Rezanov continued:

"I have brought the Juno heavy laden, myfathers, and for the deliberate purpose of barter.She is full of Russian and Boston goods. I shalldo my utmost to persuade your Governor to giveme of his corn and other farinaceous foods in ex-change. It may be against your laws, and I am wellaware that for the treaty I must wait, but I begyou in the name of humanity to point out to his ex-cellency a way in which he can at the same timerelieve our necessities and placate his conscience."

"We will! We will!" cried Father Abella."Would that you had come in the disguise of acommon sea-captain, for we have hoodwinked thecommandantes more than once. But aside from thesuspicion and distrust in which Spain holds Russia--with so distinguished a visitor as your excellency,it would be impossible to traffic undetected. Butthere must be a way out. There shall be! And willyour excellency kindly let us see the cargo? I amsure there is much we sadly need: cloth, linen, cot-ton, boots, shoes, casks, bottles, glasses, plates,shears, axes, implements of husbandry, saws, sheep-shears, iron wares--have you any of these things,Excellency?"

"All and more. Will you come to-morrow?"

"We will! and one way or another they shall beours and you shall have breadstuffs for your pitiablesubjects. We have as much need of Europe as youcan have of California, for Mexico is dilatory andoften disregards our orders altogether. One wayor another--we have your promise, Excellency?"

"I shall not leave California without accomplish-ing what I came for," said Rezanov.

VIII

Concha boxed Rosa's ears twice while beingdressed for the ball that evening. It was true thatexcitement had reigned throughout the Presidio allday, for never had a ball been so hastily planned.Don Luis had demurred when Concha proposed itat breakfast; officially to entertain strangers not yetofficially received exceeded his authority. Concha,waxing stubborn with opposition, vowed that shewould give the ball herself if he did not. Businessimmediately afterward took the Commandante ad.in. down to the Battery at Yerba Buena. Beforehe left he gave orders that the large hall in the bar-racks, where balls usually were held, should belocked and the key given up to no one but himself.He returned in the afternoon to find that Conchahad outwitted him. The sala of the Commandante'shouse was very large. The furniture had been re-moved and the walls hung with flags, those ofSpain on three sides, the Russian, borrowed by San-tiago from the ship, at the head of the room. Con-cha laughed gaily as Luis stormed about the salarasping his spurs on the bare floor.

"Whitewashed walls for guests from St. Peters-burg!" she jeered, as Luis menaced the flags. "Wehave little enough to offer. Besides--what morewise than to flaunt our flag in the face of the Rus-sian bear? Their flag, of course, is a mere idlecompliment. Let me tell you two things, Luis mio:this morning I invited the Russians to dance to-night, and told Padre Abella to ask all our neigh-bors of the Mission besides; and Rafaella Salhelped me to drape every one of those flags.When I told her you might tear them down, shevowed that if you did she would dance all nightwith the Bostonian."

Luis lifted his shoulders and mustache to expressan attitude of contemptuous resignation, but his facedarkened, and a moment later he left the room andstrolled up the square to the grating of Rafaella Sal.

Concha well knew that the frank gray eyes of theBostonian--all citizens of the United States wereBostonians in that part of the world, for only Bos-ton skippers had the enterprise to venture so far--were for no one but herself. But his face wasbony and freckled, and his figure less in height andvigor than her own. He was rich and well-born,but shy and very modest. Concha Arguello, LaFavorita of California, was for some such dashingcaballero as Don Antonio Castro of Monterey, orIgnacio Sal, the most adventurous rider of thenorth. Meanwhile he could look at her and adoreher in secret, and Dona Rafaella Sal was very kindand danced as well as himself. He never dreamedthat he was being used as a stalking horse to keepalive in the best match in the Californias the jealousdesire for exclusive possession that had animatedhim in 1800 when he had applied through the Vice-roy of Mexico for royal consent to his marriagewith the Favorita of her year. That was six yearsago and never a word had come from Madrid. Luiswas faithful, but men were men, and girls grewolder every day. So the wise Rafaella was alter-nately indifferent and alluring, the object of moreadmiration than a maid could always repel, yet withwells of sentiment that only one man could dis-cover. And the American was patient, and evenhad he known, would not in the least have mindedthe use she made of him. He still could look atConcha Arguello.

William Sturgis had sailed in one of his father'sships, now six years ago, from Boston in search ofhealth. The ship in a dense fog had gone on therocks in the straits between the Farallones andthe Bay of San Francisco. He alone, and afterlong hours of struggle with the wicked currents,not even knowing in what direction land might be,was flung, senseless, on the shore below the Fort.For the next month he was an invalid in the houseof the Commandante. Fortunately, his papers andmoney were sewn in an oilskin belt and his father'sname was well known in California. Moreover,there never was a more likable youth. His illnessinterested all the matrons and maids of the Presidioin his fate; when he recovered, his good dancingand unselfishness gave him a permanent place in theregard of the women, while his entire absence ofbeauty, and his ability to hold his own in the messroom, established his position with the men.

In due course word of his plight reached Boston,and a ship was immediately despatched, not only tobring the castaway home, but with the fine ward-robe necessary to a young gentleman of his station.But the same ship brought word of his father'sdeath--his mother had gone long since--and asthere were brothers enamored of the business hehated, he decided to remain in the country that hadwon his heart and given him health. For some timethere was demur on the part of the authorities;Spain welcomed no foreigners in her colonies.But Sturgis swore a mighty oath that he wouldnever despatch a letter uninspected by the Com-mandante, that he would make no excursions intothe heart of the country, that he would neither en-gage in traffic nor interfere in politics. Then hav-ing already won the affections of the Governor, hewas permitted to remain, even to rent an acre ofland from the Church in the sheltered Mission val-ley, and build himself a house. Here he raisedfruit and vegetables for his own hospitable table,chickens and game cocks. Books and other lux-uries came by every ship from Boston; until for along interval ships came no more. One of thesedays, when the power of the priests had abated, andthe jealousy which would keep all Californians land-less but themselves was counterbalanced by a greatincrease in population, he meant to have a ranchdown in the south where the sun shone all the yearround and he could ride half the day with hisvaqueros after the finest cattle in the country. Heshould never marry because he could not marryConcha Arguello, but he could think of her, see hersometimes; and in a land where a man was neitherfrozen in winter nor grilled in summer, where lifecould be led in the open, and the tendency was toidle and dream, domestic happiness called on afeebler note than in less equable climes. In hisheart he was desperately jealous of Concha's fav-ored cavaliers, but it was a jealousy without hatred,and his kind, earnest, often humorous eyes, werealways assuring his lady of an imperishable desireto serve her without reward. Of course Conchatreated him with as little consideration as so humblea swain deserved; but in her heart she liked him bet-ter than either Castro or Sal, for he talked to herof something besides rodeos and balls, racing andcock-fights; he had taught her English and lent hermany books. Moreover, he neither sighed nor lan-guished, nor ever had sung at her grating. Butshe regarded him merely as an intelligence, a wellof refreshment in her stagnant life, never as a man.

"Rose," she said, as she caught her hair into ahigh golden comb that had been worn in Spain bymany a beauty of the house of Moraga, and spikedthe knot with two long pins globed at the end withgold, while the maid fastened her slippers andsmoothed the pink silk stockings over the thin in-step above; "what is a lover like? Is it like meet-ing one of the saints of heaven?"

"No, senorita."

"Like what, then?"

"Like--like nothing but himself, senorita. Youwould not have him otherwise."

"Oh, stupid one! Hast thou no imagination?Fancy any man being well enough as he is! Forinstance, there is Don Antonio, who is so hand-some and fiery, and Don Ignacio, who can sing anddance and ride as no one else in all the Californias,and Don Weeliam Sturgis, who is very clever andtrue. If I could roll them into one--a tamale ofcorn and chicken and peppers--there would be aman almost to my liking. But even then--notquite. And one man--what nonsense! I have toomuch color to-night, Rosa."

"No, senorita, you have never been so beautiful.When the lover comes and you love him, senorita,you will think him greater than our natural kingand lord, and all other men poor Indians."

"Would you marry at your parents' bidding, likea child, senorita? I do not think you would."

Concha looked at the girl in astonishment, butwith a greater astonishment she suddenly realizedthat she would not. Even her little fingers stiffenedin a rush of personality, of passionate resentmentagainst the shackles bound by the ages about thefeminine ego. Her individuality, long budding,burst into flower; her eyes gazed far beyond herradiant image in the mirror with a look of terrifiedbut dauntless insight; then moved slowly to the girlthat sat weeping on the floor.

"I know not what thy sin was," she said musingly."But I have heard it said thou didst obey no lawbut thine own will--and his. Why should the pun-ishment have been so terrible? Thou hast sworn tome thou didst not help to murder the woman."

"I cannot tell you, senorita. You will neverknow anything of sin; but of love--yes, I think youwill know that, and before very long."

"Before long?" Concha's lips parted and the ner-vous color she had deprecated left her cheeks."What meanest thou, Rosa?" Her voice rosehoarsely.

And the Indian, with the insight of her owntragedy, replied: "The Russian has come for you,senorita. You will go with him, far away to thenorth and the snow. These others never could winyour heart; but this man who looks like a king, andas if many women had loved him, and he had caredlittle-- Oh, senorita, Carlos was only a poor In-dian, but the men that women love all have some-thing that makes them brothers--the Great Rus-sian and the poor man who goes mad for a momentand kills one woman that he may live with anotherforever. The great Russian is free, but he is thesame, senorita--he too could kill for love, and suchare the men we women die for!"

Concha, ambitious and romantic, eager for thebrilliant life the advent of this Russian noblemanseemed to herald, had assured Santiago that hewould love her; but they had been the empty wordsof the Favorita of many conquests; of love and pas-sion she had known, suspected, nothing. As shewatched Rosa, huddled and convulsed, little pointedarrows flew into her brain. Girls in those old Span-ish days went to the altar with a serene faith inmiracles, and it was a matter of honor among thosethat preceded their friends to abet the parents in acustom which assuredly did not err on the side ofugliness. Concha had a larger vocabulary thanother Californians of her sex, for she had readmany books, and if never a novel, she knew some-thing of poetry. Sturgis had filled the sala withthe sonorous roll of his favorite masters and it hadpleased her ear; but the language of passion hadbeen so many beautiful words, neither vibrating norlingering in her consciousness. But the rude expres-sion of the miserable woman at her feet, whosesobs grew more uncontrollable every moment, madeit forever impossible that she should prattle againas she had to Santiago and Rezanov in the last dayand night; and although she felt as if straining hereyes in the dark, her cheeks burned once more, andshe rose uneasily and walked to the window.

She returned in a moment and stood over Rosa,but her voice when she spoke had lost its hoarsenessand was cold and irritated.

"Control thyself," she said. "And go and bathethine eyes. Wouldst look like a tomato when it istime to pass the dulces and wines? And think nomore of thy lover until he can come out of prisonand marry thee." She drew herself away as thewoman attempted to clutch her skirts. "Go," shesaid. "The musicians are tuning."

IX

"The sash, Excellency?" Jon longed to see hismaster in full regalia once more, and after all, wasnot this an embassy of a sort? But Rezanov, whoalready regarded his reflection with some humor,shook his head.

"I'll go as far as decency permits, for no one isso impressed by external magnificence as the Span-iard. But full dress uniform and orders are enough;an ambassador's sash and they might suspect I tookthem for the children they are. Children are notalways fools. My stock is too tight. Rememberthat I am to dance, and am too tall for most wom-men's pretty little ears. And I doubt if an ear isless thirsty for being so provocatively screened."

Jon, a "prince" whose family had fallen upon evildays long since, but whose thin, clever fingers wereno mean inheritance, unwound and readjusted thefolds of soft batiste, that most becoming neck ves-ture man has ever worn. He fain would havepressed the matter of the sash, but Rezanov, mostindulgent of masters to this devoted servant, wasnever patient of insistence. Jon also regretted thepowdered wig and queue, which he privately thoughtmore befitting a fine gentleman than his own hair,even though the latter were thick and bright. Hesaid tentatively:

"I notice these Californians still wear the hairlong; and with their gay ribbons and showy hatslook much better no doubt than if they followed afashion of which it would seem they had not heard--and perhaps do not admire. I ventured to packtwo of your excellency's wigs when we were leav-ing St. Petersburg--"

"Good heavens, no!" cried Rezanov, rising to hisfeet and casting a last impatient glance at the mir-ror. "When a man has escaped from a furnacedoes he run back of his own accord? My brainwould cook under a wig in this climate, and I needall my wits--for more reasons than one." And hewent up on deck.

There, while awaiting his horses and escort, hehad another glimpse of the happy Arcadian life ofthe Californians. Over the sand hills throughwhich he had floundered twice that day rode youngmen in gala attire, a maiden, her attire as brilliantas the sunset along the western summits, on thesaddle before them. These saddles were heavy withsilver, the blanket beneath was embroidered withboth silver and gold. Gay light laughter floated outon the cool evening breeze to the little ship in theharbor.

"It has been a good day," thought Rezanov, low-ering his glass. "It is like her to arrange so charm-ing a finale."

When he arrived at the Presidio the guitars weretinkling and the sala was full of eager and somberfaces. The Californians had come early, deter-mined to witness the arrival of the Russians. Verypretty most of the girls were, and by no means abevy of brunettes. There was hair of every shadeof brown, looped over the ears, drawn high andconfined by the high comb and the long pins; andRafaella Sal, with her red hair and gray eyes, wasstill celebrated as a beauty, although no longer inher first youth--she was twenty-two, and shouldhave been a matron and mother long since! Butshe looked very handsome and coquettish in herdaring yellow frock that no other red head wouldhave dared to wear, and she displayed three ropesof Baja California pearls; one strand being the com-mon possession. The matrons, young and old, woreheavy satins or brocades, either red or yellow, butthe maids were in flowered silks, sometimes withcoquettish little jacket, generally with long pointedbodice and full flowing skirt. Concha's frock wasmade in this fashion, but quite different otherwise;an aunt in the City of Mexico being mindful atwhiles of the cravings of relatives in exile. It wasof a soft shimmering white stuff covered with goldspangles and cut to reveal her young neck and arms.She stood at the head of the room with her motheras Rezanov entered, and he noticed for the firsttime how tall she was. She held herself proudly;mischievous twinkle, nor child-like trust, nor flashingcoquetry possessed her eyes; these, even more star-like than usual, nevertheless looked upon her guestswith a dignified composure. Her lips, her skin,were luminous. In this well-cut evening gown hesaw that her figure was superb; and that she couldcommand stateliness as well as vivacity moved hertoward a pedestal in his regard that had been occu-pied by few and never for long.

Rezanov, in his splendid uniform and blazingorders, filled the sala with his presence as he walkedpast the rows of bright critical eyes toward hishostesses. The young lips of the maids parted withdelight and the men frowned. For the first timeWilliam Sturgis felt the sickness of jealousy insteadof its not unagreeable pain. Davidov and Khostov,both handsome and well-bred young men, were alsoin full naval uniform, and by no means ignored;while Langsdorff, in the severe black of the scholar,was an admirable foil.

Rezanov, wondering at the subtle change inConcha, bowed ceremoniously and murmured:"You will give me the first dance, senorita?"

"Certainly, Excellency. Are you not the guestof honor?"

She motioned to the Indian musicians, fiddlesand guitars fairly leaped to position, and in a mo-ment Rezanov enjoyed the novel delusion of en-circling a girl's floating wraith.

"We can waltz, you see! Are you not sur-prised?"

"It is but one accomplishment the more. I feareda preference for your native dances, but venturedto hope you would teach me."

"They are easy to learn. You will watch usdance the contra-danza after this."

"With whom do you dance it?"

Her black eyelashes were very thick; he barelycaught the glance she shot him.

"The Russian bear growls," she said lightly."Did you expect to dance every dance with me?"

"I came for no other purpose."

"You would have several duels to fight to-mor-row."

"I have no objection."

"You have fought others, then?" Her voice wasthe softer with the effort to turn its edge.

"No more than most men, I suppose. May I askhow many have been fought for you?"

"My memory is no better than yours. Whyshould I burden it with trifles?"

"True. It doubtless is charged with matters farmore serious than the desires of mere men. Tellme, senorita, what is your dearest wish?" He hadbent his head and fixed his powerful gaze on herstubborn lashes. As he hoped, she raised startledeyes in which an angry glitter dawned.

"My dearest wish? If I had one should I tellyou? Why do you ask me such a question?"

"Because I lit a candle at the Mission to-day thatyou might realize it," he answered, smiling.

To his surprise he saw a flash of terror in hereyes before she dropped them, and felt her shiver.But she answered coldly:

"You have wasted a candle, senor. I have neverhad a wish that was not instantly gratified. But Ithank you for the kind thought. Will you finishthis waltz with my friend, and the fiancee of Luis,Rafaella Sal? She has quarrelled with Luis, I see;Don Weeliam is dancing with Carolina Xime'no, andshe cares to waltz with no one else. Pardon me ifI say that no one has ever waltzed as well as yourexcellency, and I must not be selfish."

"I will release you if you are tired, but otherwiseI shall do myself the honor to waltz with yourfriend later."

"I must look after my other guests," she saidcoldly; and he was led with what grace he couldsummon to the fair but sulky Rafaella.

"How am I to help flirting with that girl?" hethought as he mechanically guided another light andgraceful partner through the crowded room. "Ifshe were one girl I might resist. But since eleveno'clock yesterday morning she has been three. Andif she was twenty yesterday, twelve this morning,she is twenty-eight to-night, and this might be acourt ball in Madrid. I shall leave the day after Ibring the Governor to terms."

He sat beside Dona Ignacia during the contra-danza and found the scene remarkably brilliant andanimated considering the primitive conditions. Inaddition to the bright flags on the wall and the vividcolors of the women, the officers of the Presidio andforts wore full dress uniform, either white coatswith red velvet vest, red pantaloons and sash, orwhite trousers and scarlet coat and waistcoat facedwith green. The young men from the Mission woresmall clothes of a black silk, fastened at the kneewith silver buckles, and white silk stockings; twogentlemen from Monterey wore the evening costumeof the capital, dove-colored small clothes, with whitesilk waistcoat and stockings, and much fine lawnand lace. The room was well lighted by manywicks stuck in lumps of tallow. The Indian musi-cians, soldiers recruited from a superior tribe inthe Santa Clara valley, were clad almost entirelyin scarlet, and danced sometimes as they played;and Indian girls, in short red skirts and snow-whitesmocks open at the throat, their long hair decoratedwith flowers and ribbons, already passed about wineand dulces. The windows were open. The sweetnight air blew in.

The contra-danza was not unlike the squaredances of England except that it was far moregraceful, and the men rivalled the women in theirsupple glidings and bendings, doublings and sway-ings. Concha danced with Ignacio Sal, Rafaellawith William Sturgis; their pliant grace, as facileas grain rippling before the wind, would have put thebest ballet in Europe to the blush. Concha's skirtsswept Rezanov's feet, her little slippers twinkledbefore his admiring eyes, and he lost no sinuousturn or undulation of her beautiful figure; but shenever vouchsafed him a glance.

When the dance finished his host introduced himto the prettiest of the girls and he paid them as manycompliments as their heads would stand. He eventook some trouble to talk to them, if only to fathomthe sources of their unlikeness to Concha Arguello.He concluded that the gulf that separated her fromthese charming, vivacious, shallow young girls wasnot dug by education alone. Individualities wererare enough in Europe; out here, in earthly, butsparsely settled paradises, they must be rarer still;but that one had wandered into the lovely shell ofConcha Arguello he no longer doubted. The factthat it had developed haphazardly, with little or nohelp from her sentience, and was still fluid and un-certain, but multiplied her in interest and charm.The women to whom he was accustomed knewthemselves, consequently were no riddle to a man ofhis experience, but here he had an odd sense of hav-ing entered into a compact in the dark with a girlwho might one day symbolize some high and im-passioned ideal he had cherished in the days beforeideals had been cast aside with the negative virtuesthat bred them.

As he coolly studied the good looks of the youngcaballeros and the plain intellectual face and slightlittle figure of the Bostonian, noted the utter in-difference with which they were treated by theFavorita of Presidio and Mission, he felt a suddenrush of arrogance, a youthful tingling of nerves,the same prophetic sense of imminent happiness andpower that his first contact with the light electricalair and the beauty of the country had induced.After all, he was but forty-two. Life on the wholehad been very kind to him. And, although he didnot realize it as yet, his frame, blighted by the rigorsof the past three years, was already sensible to arenewal of juice and sap. He admitted that he wasmore interested than he had been for many years,and that if he was not in love, he tingled with avery natural masculine desire for an adventure witha pretty girl.

But he was by no means a weak man, and hismind counted the cost even while his imaginationhummed. He had almost decided to bid DonaIgnacia an abrupt good-night, pleading fatigue,which his pallor indorsed, when the door of the din-ing-room was thrown open to the liveliest offiddling, and a white hand with a singular sugges-tion of tenacity both in appearance and clasp tookpossession of his arm.

"My mother has gone to Gertrudis Rudisinda,who is crying," said Concha. "It is my pleasure tolead your excellency in to supper."

They sat side by side at the head of the longtable almost covered by the massive service of sil-ver and loaded with evidences of Dona Ignacia'sgenerosity and skill; chickens in red rice and gravy,oysters, tamales, dulces, pastries, fruits and pleasantdrinks. Luis, with Rafaella Sal dimpling andsparkling at his side, and now quite resigned to thesemi-official nature of the ball, rose and drank thehealth of the distinguished guest in long and flow-ery praises. Rezanov responded in briefer but noless felicitous vein, and concluded by remarkingthat the only rift in the lute of his present enchant-ing experience was the fear that whereas he hadnearly died of starvation several times during thepast three years, he was now threatened with a farmore ignominious end, so delicious and irresistiblewere the temptations that beset the wayfarer in thismost hospitable land. Both speeches were gaily ap-plauded, the conversation became animated and gen-eral, and Concha dropped her voice to the attentiveear beside her.

"You were very successful to-day at the Mission,Excellency."

"May I ask how you know?"

"I never saw anything so serenely--arrogantly,perhaps would be a truer description--triumphantas your bearing when you walked down our humblesala to-night. You looked like Caesar returned fromGaul; but I suppose that all great conquests aremerely the sum of many small ones."

"I do not regard the friendship of so shrewd aman as Father Abella a trifling conquest. And ac-cording to yourself, dear senorita, it is essential tothe success of a mission upon which many lives andmy own honor depend."

"Is it really so serious?" she asked with a faintsneer.

He drew himself up stiffly and his light eyesglowed with anger. "It is a subject I never shouldhave thought of introducing at a festivity like this,"he said suavely. "May I be permitted to compli-ment you, senorita, upon your marvellous grace inthe contra-danza? It quite turned my head, and Iam delighted to hear that you will dance alone aftersupper."

Her face had flushed hotly. She dropped hereyes and her voice trembled as she replied: "Youhumiliate me, senor, and I deserve it. I--my poorRosa told me something of her great tragedy whiledressing me, and for the moment other thingsseemed unimportant. What is hunger and courtfavor beside a broken heart and a desolate life?But that of course is the attitude of an ignorantgirl." She raised her eyes. They were soft, andher voice was softer. "I beg that you will forgiveme, senor. And be sure that I take an even deeperinterest in your great mission than yesterday. Ihave thought much about it, and while I have toldmy mother nothing, I have expressed certain peev-ish hopes that a ship would not come all the wayfrom Sitka without taking a hint more than oneBoston skipper must have given, and brought usmany things we need. She is quite excited overthe prospect of a new shawl for herself, and of send-ing several as presents to the south; besides manyother things: cotton, shoes, kitchen utensils. Haveyou any of these things, Excellency?"

Rezanov stared at her face, barely tinted withcolor, dully wondering why it should be so differentfrom the one roguish, pathetically innocent, thathad haunted him all day. He asked abruptly:

"Which is the friend whose little ones you envy?You have made me wish to see them and her?"

"That is Elena--beside Gervasio." She indicateda young woman with soft, patient, brown eyes, thedignity of her race and the sweetness of youngmotherhood, who would have looked little olderthan herself had it not been for an already shape-less figure. "I can take you to-morrow to see themif you wish."

She had cast down her eyes and her face waswhite. Still he groped on.

"Pardon me if I say that I am surprised yourparents should permit such a woman as this Rosato attend you. Why should your happy life be dis-turbed by the lamentations of an abandoned crea-ture--who can do you no good, and possibly muchharm?"

Still Concha did not raise her eyes. "I do notthink poor Rosa would do anyone harm. But per-haps it were as well she went elsewhere. We havehad her long enough. I have taken a dislike to her.I reproach myself bitterly, but I cannot help it. Ishould like never to see her again."

"What has she told you?" Concha glanced upswiftly. His eyes were blazing. She felt quite cer-tain that he rolled a Russian oath under his tongue,and she made a slight involuntary motion towardhim, her lips trembling apart.

"Nothing," she murmured. "I do not know--Ido not know. But I no longer wish her near me.She--life is very strange and terrible, senor. Youknow it well--I, so little."

Rezanov felt his breath short and his hands cold.For a moment he made no reply. Then he smiledcharmingly and said in the conventional tone thatwas ever at his command: "Of course you knowlittle of life in this Arcadia. One who hopes to benumbered among the best of your friends praysthat you never may. Yes, senorita, life is strange--strangely commonplace and disillusionizing--butsometimes picturesque. Believe me when I say thatnothing stranger has ever befallen me than to findout here on the lonely brink of a continent nearlytwenty thousand versts from Europe, a girl of six-teen with the grand manner, and an intellect with-out the detestable idiosyncrasies of the fashionablebas bleus I have hitherto had the misfortune to en-counter."

She was tapping the table slowly with her fork,and he noted that her soft, childish mouth was set."No doubt you are quite right to put me off," shesaid finally, and in a voice as even as his own. "Andmy intellect would do me little good if it did notteach me to ignore mysteries I can never hope tofathom. There is no such thing as life in your sensein this forgotten corner of the world, nor ever willbe in my time. If you come back and visit ustwenty years hence you will find me fat and wornlike Elena, and busy every minute like my mother--unless, indeed, I marry Don Weeliam Sturgisand become a great lady in Boston. It would not beso mean a fate."

Rezanov darted a look of angry contempt at thepale young man who was eating little and miser-ably watching the handsome pair at the head of thetable. "You will not marry him!" he said briefly.

"I could do far worse." Concha's lashes framedan adorable glance that sent the blood to the hairof the sensitive youth. "You have no idea howclever and good he is. And--Madre de Dios!--I am so tired of California."

"But you are a part of it--the very symbol of itsfuture, it seems to me. I wish I had a sculptor inmy suite. I should make him model you, label thestatue 'California,' and erect it on the peak of thatbig island out there."

"That is very poetical, but after all, you are onlysaying that I am a pretty savage with an educationthat will be more common in the next generation.It is little consolation for an existence where themost exciting event in a lifetime is the arrival of aforeign ship or the inauguration of a governor."And once more she smiled at Sturgis. He raisedhis glass impulsively, and she hers in gay response. Amoment later she gave the signal to leave the table.Rezanov followed her back to the sala chewing thecud of many reflections.

X

Concha had eaten no supper. As she entered thesala she clapped her hands, the guests rangedthemselves against the wall, the musicians, livelierthan ever, flew to their instruments; with the drift-ing, swaying movement she could assume at will,she went slowly, absently, to the middle of the room.Then she let her head drop backward, as if withthe weight of her hair, and Rezanov, vaguely angry,expected one of those appeals to the senses forwhich Spanish women of another sort werenotorious. But Concha, after tapping the flooralternately with the points and the wooden heels ofher slippers, for a few moments, suddenly madean imperious gesture to Ignacio Sal. He sprang toher side, took her hand, and once more there wasthe same monotonous tapping of toes and heels.Then they whirled apart, bent their lithe backs untiltheir brows almost touched the floor in a salute ofmock admiration, and danced to and from eachother, coquetry in the very tilt of her eyebrows, thebare semblance of masculine indulgence on his eager,passionate face. Suddenly to the surprise of all, shesnapped her fingers directly under his nose, wavedher hand, turned her back, and made a peremptorygesture to that other enamoured young swain, Cap-tain Antonio Castro of Monterey. Don Ignacio,surprised and discomfited, retired amidst the jeersof his friends, and Concha, with her most vivaciousand gracious manner, met Castro half way, and, tak-ing his hand, danced up and down the sala, slowlyand with many improvisations. Then, as they re-turned to the center of the room and stepped lightlyapart before joining in a gay whirl, she snapped herfingers under HIS nose, made a gesture of dismissalover her shoulder, and fluttered an uplifted handin the direction of Sturgis. Again there was a de-lighted laughter, again a discomforted knight anda triumphant partner.

"Concha always gives us something we do notexpect," said Santiago to Rezanov, whose eyes weretwinkling. "The other girls dance El Son and LaJota very gracefully--yes. But Conchita danceswith her head, and the musicians and the partner,when she takes one, have all they can do to follow.She will choose you, next, senor."

Rezanov turned cold, and measured the distanceto the door. "I hope not!" he said. "I should hatenothing so much as to make an exhibition of myself.The dances I know--that is all very well--but toimprovise--for the love of heaven help me to getout!"

But Santiago, who was watching his sister in-tently, replied: "Wait a moment, Excellency. I donot think she will choose another. I know by herfeet that she intends to dance El Son--in her ownway, of course--after all."

Concha circled about the room twice with Sturgis,lifted him to the seventh heaven of expectancy, dis-missed him as abruptly as the others. Lifting herchin with an expression of supreme disdain for allhis sex, she stood a moment, swaying, her armshanging at her sides.

"I am glad she will not dance with Weeliam,"muttered Santiago. "I love him--yes; but theSpanish dance is not for the Bostonian."

Rezanov awaited her performance with an in-terest that caused him some cynical amusement.But in a moment he had surrendered to her oncemore as a creature of inexhaustible surprise. Themusicians, watching her, began to play more slowly.Concha, her arms still supine, her head lifted, hereyes half veiled, began to dance in a stately andmeasured fashion that seemed to powder her hairand dissolve the partitions before an endless vistaof rooms. Rezanov had a sudden vision of the Hallof the Ambassadors in the royal palace at Madrid,where, when a young man on his travels, he hadattended a state ball. There he had seen the mostdignified beauties of Europe dance at the most for-mal of its courts. But Concha created the illusionof having stepped down from the throne in somebygone fashion to dance alone for her subjects andadorers.

She raised her arms, barely budding at the top,with a gesture that was not only the poetry ofgrace but as though bestowing some royal favor;when she curved and swayed her body, again it waswith the lofty sweetness of one too highly placedto descend to mere seductiveness. She glided up anddown, back and forth, with a dreamy revealing mo-tion as if assisting to shape some vague impas-sioned image in the brain of a poet. She lifted herlittle feet in a manner that transformed boards intoclouds. There were moments when she seemedactually to soar.

"She is a little genius!" thought Rezanov en-thusiastically. "Anything could be made of awoman like that."

It was not her dancing alone that interested him,but its effect on her audience. The young men hadbegun with audible expressions of approval. Theywere now shouting and stamping and clapping.Suddenly, as once more she danced back to the verycenter of the room, her bosom heaving, her eyeslike stars, her red lips parted, Don Ignacio, longsince recovered from his spleen, invaded his pocketand flung a handful of silver at her feet. It was asignal. Gold and silver coins, chains, watches,jewels, bounced over the floor, to be laughinglyignored. Rezanov looked on in amazement, won-dering if this were a part of the performance andif he should follow suit. But after a glance at thefaces of the young men, lost to everything but theirpassionate admiration for the unique and beautifuldancing of their Favorita, and when Sturgis, afterwildly searching in his pockets, tore a large pearlfrom the lace of his stock, he doubted no longer--nor hesitated. Fastened by a blue ribbon to thefourth button of his closely fitting coat was a goldenkey, the outward symbol of his rank at court. Hedetached it, then made a sudden gesture that caughther attention. For a moment their eyes met. Hetossed her the bauble, and mechanically she liftedher hand and caught it. Then she laughed con-fusedly, shrugged her shoulders, bowed graciouslyto her audience, and signalled to the musicians tostop. Rezanov was at her side in a moment.

"You must be tired," he said. "I insist that youcome out on the veranda and rest."

"Very well," she said indifferently; "it is quitetime we all went out to the air. Santiago mio, wiltthou bring my reboso--the white one?"

Santiago, more flushed than his sister at hertriumphs, fetched the long strip of silk, and Rez-anov detached her from her eager court and led herwithout. Elena Castro followed closely, yet witha cavalier of her own that her friend might talkfreely with this interesting stranger. The night airwas cool and stimulating. The hills were blackunder the sparks of white fire in the high arch of theCalifornia sky. In the Presidio square were longblue shadows that might have been reflections ofthe smoldering blue beyond the stars. Rezanovand Concha sat on the railing at the end of the"corridor."

"It is a custom--all that very material admira-tion?" he asked.

"A very old one, but not too often followed.Otherwise we should not prize it. But when someFavorita outdoes herself then she receives thegreatest reward that man can think of--gold andsilver jewels. We do not dare to return the tributesin common fashion, but they have a way of appear-ing where they belong as soon as their owners aresupposed to have forgotten the incident. As youare not a Californian, senor, I take the liberty of re-turning this without any foolish subterfuge." Shehanded him his contribution. "I thank you all thesame. It was a spontaneous act, and I am veryproud."

He accepted the key awkwardly, not daring topress it upon her, with the obvious banalities. Buthe felt a sudden desire to give her something, and,nothing better offering, he gathered half a dozenroses and laid them on her lap.

"I was disappointed that you did not wear yourroses to-night," he said. "I associate them with youin my thoughts. Will you put one in your hair?"

She found a place for two and thrust another inthe neck of her gown. The rest she held closely inher hands. Then he noticed that she was verywhite, and again she shivered.

"You are cold and tired," he murmured, his eyesmelting to hers. "It was entrancing, but I hopenever to see you give so much of yourself to othersagain." His hand in arranging the reboso touchedhers. It lingered, and she stared up at him, help-lessly, her eyes wide, her lips parted. She remindedhim of a rabbit caught in a trap, and he had a sud-den and violent revulsion of feeling. He rose andoffered his arm. "I should be a brute if I kept youtalking out here. Slip off and go to bed. I shallstart the guests, for I am very tired myself."

XI

He did not talk with her again for several days. Hecalled in state, but remained only a few moments.His officers went to several impromptu dances atthe Presidio and Mission, but he pleaded fatigue,natural in the damaged state of his constitution,and left the ship only for a gallop over the hills ordown the coast with Luis Arguello.

But he had never felt better. At the end of aweek his pallor had gone, his skin was tanned andfresh. Even his wretched crew were different men.They were given much leave on shore, and alreadymight be seen escorting the serving-women overthe hills in the late afternoon. Rezanov gave thema long rope, although he knew they must be ger-minating with a mutinous distaste of the Russiannorth; he kept strict watch over them and wouldhave given a deserter his due without an instant'spause.

The estafette that had gone with Luis' letters toMonterey had taken one from Rezanov as well, ask-ing permission to pay a visit of ceremony to theGovernor. Five days later the plenipotentiary re-ceived a polite welcome to California, and protestagainst another long journey; the humble servantof the King of Spain would himself go to SanFrancisco at once and offer the hospitality of Cali-fornia to the illustrious representative of the Em-peror of all the Russias.

Rezanov was not only annoyed at the Governor'sevident determination that he should see as littleas possible of the insignificant military equipment ofCalifornia, but at the delay to his own plans for ex-ploration. He knew that Luis would dare take himupon no expedition into the heart of the countrywithout the consent of the Governor, and he beganto doubt this consent would be given. But he wasdetermined to see the bay, at least, and he no soonerread the diplomatic epistle from Monterey than hedecided to accomplish this part of his purpose beforethe arrival of the Governor or Don Jose. He knewthe material he had to deal with at the moment,but nothing of that already, no doubt, on its way tothe north.

Early in the morning after the return of thecourier he wrote an informal note to Dona Ignacia,asking her to give him the honor of entertainingher for a day on the Juno, and to bring all the youngpeople she would. As the weather was so fine, hehoped to see them in time for chocolate at nineo'clock. He knew that Luis, who was pressinglyincluded in the invitation, had left at daybreak forhis father's rancho, some thirty miles to the south.

There was a flutter at the Presidio when the invi-tation of the Chamberlain was made known. Thecompliment was not unexpected, but there had beena lively speculation as to what form the Russian'sreturn of hospitality would take. Concha, whosetides had thundered and ebbed many times since thenight of her party, submerging the happy inconse-quence of her sixteen years, but leaving her un-shaken spirit with wide clarified vision, felt youngto-day from sheer reaction. She would listen to noprotest from her prudent mother and smothered herwith kisses and a torrent of words.

"But, my Conchita," gasped Dona Ignacia, "Ihave much to do. Thy father and his excellencycome in two days. And perhaps they would notapprove--before they are here!--to go on the for-eign ship! If Luis were not gone! Ay yi! Ay yi!"

"We go, we go, madre mia! And his excellencywill give you a shawl. I feel it! I know it! Andif we go now we disobey no law. Have they eversaid we could not visit a foreign ship when theywere not here? We are light-headed, irresponsiblewomen. And if they should not let us go! If theGovernor and the Russian should disagree! Nowwe have the opportunity for such a day as we neverhave had before. We should be imbeciles. We go,madre mia, we go!"

So it proved. At a few minutes before nine theSenora Arguello, clad in her best black skirt andjacket, a red shawl embroidered with yellow drapedover her bust with unconquerable grace, and a blackreboso folded about her fine proud head, rode downto the beach with Ana Paula on the aquera behindand Gertrudis Rudisinda on her arm. The boyshowled on the corridor, but the good senora feltshe could not too liberally construe the kind invita-tion of a chamberlain of the Russian Court.

Behind her rode Concha, in white with a pinkreboso; Rafaella Sal, Carolina Xime'no, HerminiaLopez, Delfina Rivera, the only other girls at thePresidio old enough to grace such an occasion;Sturgis, who happened to have spent the night atthe Presidio, Gervasio, Santiago and LieutenantRivera. Castro had returned to Monterey, Sal wasofficer of the day, and the other young men hadsulkily declined to be the guests of a man who lookedas haughty as the Tsar himself and betrayed no dis-position to recognize in Spain the first nation ofEurope. But no one missed them. The girls, intheir flowered muslins and bright rebosos, the menin gay serapes and embroidered botas, looked afine mass of color as they galloped down to thebeach and laughed and chattered as youth must onso glorious a morning. Even Sturgis, always care-ful to be as nearly one with these people as his dif-ferent appearance and temperament would permit,wore clothes of green linen, a ruffled shirt, deer-skinbotas and sombrero.

Three of the ship's canoes awaited the guests, andas not one of the women had ever set foot in a boat,there was a chorus of shrieks. Dona Ignacia mur-mured an audible prayer, and clutched GertrudisRudisinda to her breast.

"Madre de Dios! The water! I cannot!" shemuttered. But Santiago took her firmly by oneelbow, Sturgis by the other, Davidov caught up thechildren with a reassuring laugh, and in a momentshe was trembling in the middle of the canoe. Con-cha had already leaped into the second and waved acareless little salutation to the Juno. Her eyessparkled. Her nostrils fluttered. She felt indif-ferent to everything but the certain pleasure of theday. Rezanov was sure to be charming. Whatmattered the morrow, and possible nights of doubt,despair, hatred of life and wondering self-contempt?

Rezanov awaited the canoes in the prow of theship. He wore undress uniform and a cap insteadof the cocked hat of ceremony which had excitedtheir awe. He too tingled with a sense of youthfulgaiety and adventure. As he helped his guests upthe side of the vessel and listened to the delightfullaughter of the girls, saw the dancing eyes of eventhe haughty and reserved Santiago, he also dismissedthe morrow from his thoughts.

As Dona Ignacia was hauled to the deck, utteringembarrassed apologies for bringing the two littlegirls, Rezanov protested that he adored children,patted their heads and told off a young sailor toamuse them.

Four tables on the deck were set with coffee,chocolate, Russian tea, and strange sweets that thecook had fashioned from ingredients to which hisskilful fingers had long been strangers.

Dona Ignacia sat beside the host, and when shehad tried both the tea and the coffee and had de-manded the recipe of the sweets, he said casually:"After breakfast I shall ask you to go down to thecabin for a few moments. I bought the cargo withthe Juno, and find there are several articles which Ishall beg as a great favor to present to my kindesthostesses and the young girls she has been goodenough to bring to my ship. Shawls and ells ofcotton and all that sort of thing are of no use to abachelor, and I hope you will rid me of some ofthem."

Dona Ignacia lost all interest in the breakfast,and presently, murmuring an excuse, was escortedby Langsdorff down to the cabin. When the lightrepast was over, Rezanov made a signal to severalsailors who awaited commands, and they sprang tothe anchor and sails.

"We are going to have a cruise," announced thehost to his guests. "The bay is very smooth, thereis a fine breeze, we shall neither be becalmed norotherwise the sport of inclement waters. I knowthat most of you have never seen this beautiful bayand that you will enjoy its scenery as much as Ishall."

He moved to Concha's side and dropped his voice."This is for you, senorita," he said. "You wantchange, variety, and I have planned to give you allthat I can in one day. I expect you to be happy."

"I shall be," she said dryly, "if only in watchinga diplomat get his way. You will see every cornerof our bay, and I shall have the delightful sensationof doing something for which I cannot be held re-sponsible."

He laughed. "I am quite willing that you shouldunderstand me," he said. "But it is true that Ithought as much of you as of myself."

In a few moments the ship was under way. San-tiago and Sturgis had gone down to the cabin toreassure Dona Ignacia, who uttered a loud cry asthe Juno gave a preliminary lurch. Gervasio andRivera had opened their eyes as Rezanov abruptlyunfolded his plan, but dropped them sleepily beforethe delight of the girls. After all, it was none oftheir affair, and what was a bay? If they requestedhim, as a point of honor, to refrain from examiningthe battery of Yerba Buena with his glass, their con-sciences would be as light as their hearts.

As Rezanov stood alone with Concha in the prowof the ship and alternately cast softened eyes on herintense, rapt face, and shrewd glances on the rami-fications of the bay, he congratulated himself uponhis precipitate action and the collusion of nature.They were sailing east, and would turn to the northin a moment. The mountain range bent abruptlyat the entrance to the bay, encircling the immensesheet of water in a chain of every altitude and form:a long hard undulating line against the bright bluesky; smooth and dimpled slopes as round as cones,bare but for the green of their grasses; lofty ridgestapering to hills in the curve at the north but withblue peaks multiplying beyond. There were denseforests in deep canyons on the mountainside, bareand jagged heights, the graceful sweep of valleys,promontories leaping out from the mainland likemammoth crocodiles guarding the bay. The viewof the main waters was broken by the largest ofthe islands, but far away were the hills of the eastand the soft blue peaks behind. And over all, hillsand valley and canyon and mountain, was a brightopalescent mist. Green, pink, and other pale col-ors gleamed as behind a thin layer of crystal.Where the sun shone through a low white cloudupon a distant slope there might have been a greatglobe of iridescent glass illuminated within. Thewater was a light, soft, filmy yet translucent blue.Concha gazed with parted lips.

"I never knew before how wonderful it was,"she murmured. "I have been taught to believe thatonly the south is beautiful, and when we had tocome here again from Santa Barbara it was exile.But now I am glad I was born in the north."

"I have watched the light on these hills andislands, and what I could see of the fine lines of themountains ever since I came, and were there butvillas and castles, these waters would be far morebeautiful than the Lake of Como or the Bay ofNaples. But I am glad to see trees again. Fromour anchorage I had but a bare glimpse of two orthree. They seem to hide from the western winds.Are they so strong, then?"

"We have terrible winds, senor. I do not wonderthe trees crouch to the east. But I must tell youour names." She pointed to the largest of theislands, a great bare mass that looked as had it been,when viscid, flung out in long folds from a centralpeak, concaving here and there with its own weight.Its southern point was on a line with a point ofmainland far to the west, and its northern, fromtheir vantage looking to be but a continuation ofthe curve of the mainland, finished an arc of almostperfect proportions, whose deep curve was a tumbledmass of hills and one great mountain. "That isNuestra Senora de los Angeles, and it opens a triplejaw, Luis has told me, at Point Tiburon--you willsoon see the straits between. The big rock overthere is Alcatraz, and farther away still is YerbaBuena--that looks like a camel on its knees."

But Rezanov was examining the scene beforehim. The lines of this bay within a bay weresuperb, and in its wide embrace, slanting from PointTiburon toward an inner point two miles oppositewas another island, as steep as Alcatraz, but longand waving of outline, with a glimpse of trees onits crest. Rezanov, while he lost nothing of the pic-turesque beauty surrounding him, was more deeplyinterested in noting the many foundations, shelteredand solid, for fortifications that would hold theserich lands against the fleets of the world. Neverhad he seen so many strategic advantages on onesheet of water. The islands farther south he hadexamined through his glass from the deck of theJuno until he knew every convolution they turnedto the west.

Concha was directing his attention to the tremen-dous angular peak rising above the tumbled hills."That is Mount Tamalpais--the mountain of peace.It was named by the Indians, not by us. Sometimesit is like a great purple shadow, and at others theclouds fight about it like the ghosts of big sea gulls."They were sailing past the rounded end of thewestern inner point of the little bay. It was almostdetached from the bare ridge behind and half cov-ered with oaks and willow trees. "That is PointSausalito. I have often looked at it through theglass and longed for a merienda in the deep shade."She turned to Rezanov with lips apart. "Could wenot--oh, senor!--have our dinner on shore?"

"It is only for you to select the spot. We cansail many miles before it is time for dinner, and youmay find a place even more to your liking. I fancywe can not go far here. It looks swampy and shal-low. Nothing could be less romantic than to stickin the mud."

"May I ask," said Concha demurely, "how youdare to run the risks of an unknown sheet of water?I have heard it said that there is more than one rockand shoal in this bay."

"I am not as rash as I may appear," replied Reza-nov dryly, but smiling. "In 1789 there was a chartof this bay, taken from a Spanish MSS., publishedin London; and I bought it there when I ran upfrom the Nadeshda--anchored at Falmouth--threeyears ago. Davidov, who, you may observe, issteering, oblivious to the charms of even Dona Caro-lina, knows every sounding by heart."

"Oh!" Concha shrugged her shoulders. "TheGovernor, too, is very clever. It will be a drawnbattle. Perhaps I shall remain neutral after all. Itwould be more amusing." The ship was turning,and she waved her hand to the island between thedeep arc of the hilly coast. "I have heard so muchof the beauty of that island," she said, "that I havecalled it La Bellissima, but I never hoped to seeanything but the back of its head, from which thewind has blown all the hair. And now I shall. Howkind of you, senor!"

"How easily you are made happy!" he said, witha sigh. "You look like a child."

"To-day I shall be one; and you the kind fairygod-father," she added, with some malice. "Howold are you, senor?"

"Forty-two."

"That is twenty-six years older than myself. Butyour excellency might pass for thirty-five," sheadded politely. "We have all said it. And nowthat you are not so pale you will soon look younger--and even more triumphant than when you came."

"I have never felt so triumphant as on this morn-ing, dear senorita. I had not hoped to give youso much pleasure."

Her cheeks were as pink as her reboso, her greatblack eyes were dancing. Her hands strained atthe railing. "I shall see La Bellissima! La Bellis-sima!" she cried.

They rounded the low broken point of the island,sailed through the racing currents between the lowerend of La Bellissima and "Our Lady of the An-gels," more slowly past what looked to be a per-pendicular forest. From water to crest the gulchesand converging spurs of this hillside in the sea werea dense mass of oaks, bays, underbrush; here andthere a tall slender tree with a bark like red kid anda flirting polished leaf, at which Concha clapped herhands as at sight of an old friend and called "ElMadrono." It was a primeval bit of nature, butsweet and silent and peaceful; there was no sugges-tion either of gloom or of discourteous beast.

"We shall have our dinner here, Excellency.There on that little beach; and afterward we shallclimb to the top. See, there are trails! The In-dians have been here."

They stood out through the straits between PointTiburon and the Isle of the Angels, where the tideran fast. Then, for the first time, was Rezanov ableto form a definite idea of the size and shape of thisgreat natural harbor. To the south it extended be-yond the peninsula in an unbroken sheet for someforty English miles. Ten miles to the north therewas a gateway between the lower hills which Luishad alluded to as leading into the bay of SaintPablo, another large body of tidewater, but inferiorin depth and beauty to the Bay of San Francisco.

The mist had dissolved. The greens were vividwhere the sun shone on island and hill. The woodsof Bellissima, the groves of Point Sausalito, the for-ests in the northern canyons, deepened to purple likethat of the great bare sweep of Tamalpais. Onlythe farther peaks remained a pale misty blue, andwere of an indescribable floating delicacy.

Concha pointed to the eastern double cone. "Thatis Monte del Diablo. Once they say it spouted fire,but that was long ago, and all our volcanoes aredead. But perhaps not so long ago. The Indianstell the strange story that their grandfathers remem-bered when this bay was a valley covered with oaktrees, and the rivers of the north flowed throughand emptied into Lake Merced and a rift by theFort. Then came a tremendous earthquake andrent the mountains apart where you came through--we call it the Mouth of the Gulf of the Faral-lones--the valley sank, the sea flowed in, only thesehills that are islands now keeping their heads abovethe flood. Perhaps it is true, for Drake was closeto this bay for a long while and never saw it, andit would have given him a better shelter than thelittle harbor he found a few miles higher on thecoast. I believe it was not here. Madre de Dios,I hope California shakes no more. She would--isit not true, Excellency?--be the most perfect coun-try in all the world did she not have the devil inher."

"Are you afraid of earthquakes?" asked Rezanov,who once more had transferred his comprehensivegaze from battery sites to her face.

"I cross myself. It is like feeling your graveturn over. But I fancy the poor old earth is likethe people on her; she gets tired of being good andis all the naughtier for having been sober too long.Don Vincente Rivera is an example; he is cold,haughty, solemn, stern to others and himself, asyou see him; but once in a while--Madre de Dios!The Presidio does not sleep for three nights!"

Rezanov laughed heartily, then turned abruptlyaway. "Come," he said. "I had almost forgotten.Will you ask the others to go to the cabin, while Igive orders that dinner shall be served on yourisland?"

In the cabin, Concha forgot him for a few mo-ments. Her mother, her eyes dwelling fondly uponseveral shawls she hoped were intended for herselfalone, was hushing the baby to sleep in the deepchair of his excellency. Ana Paula was playingwith an Alaskan doll she had appropriated withoutceremony. Rezanov came in when his guests wereassembled, and he had a gift for each; curious ob-jects of Alaskan workmanship for the men, minia-ture totem poles and fur-bordered moccasins; butsilk and cotton, linen, shawls, and find handker-chiefs for senora and maiden.

"They are trifles," he said, in response to an en-thusiastic chorus. "The cargo I was obliged totake over was a very large one. You must notprotest. I shall never miss these things." And heknew that he had sown the seeds of a rapacity simi-lar to that implanted in the worthy bosoms of thepriests when they had paid him their promised visit.If the Governor were insensible to diplomacy hewould have pressure brought to bear upon his offi-cial integrity from more quarters than one.

"There are also many of the presents rejected bythe Mikado, somewhere," he added carelessly. "ButI could not find them. They must have found theirway to the bottom of the hold during one of thestorms we encountered on our way from Sitka."

He certainly looked the fairy godfather, andquite impartial as he distributed his offerings witha chosen word to each; his memory for little char-acteristics was as remarkable as for names and faces.He had taken off his cap on deck, and the breeze hadruffled his thick fair hair, brought the blood to histhin cheeks. The lines of his face, cut by privationand anxiety and illness, had almost disappeared withthe renewed elasticity of the flesh, and his blue eyeswere wide open, and sparkling in sympathy withthe pleasure of his guests and the success of his ownstrategy. These few insignificant Spaniards dis-lodged, a half-dozen forts in this harbor, and thecombined navies of the world might be defied; whilea great chain of hungry settlements fattened andprospered exceedingly on the beneficence of the mostfertile land in all the Americas.

XII

The eastern mountains looked very close from thecrest of La Bellissima and of a singular transpar-ency and variety of hue. It was as if the whitemasses of cloud sailing low overhead flung downgreat splashes of color from prismatic stores stolenfrom the sun. There was a vivid pale green on thelong sweep of a rounding slope, deep violet andpale purple in dimple and hollow, red showingthrough green on a tongue of land running downfrom the north; and on the lower ridges and littleislands, pale and dark blue, and the most exquisitefields of lavender. This last tint was reflected inthe water immediately below the ridge, and fartherout there were lakelets of pale green, as if theislands, too, had the power to mirror themselveswhen the sea itself was glass.

Santiago, Davidov, Carolina Xime'no, Delfina Ri-vera, Concha and Rezanov, had climbed to the ridge.The other young people had given out halfway upthe steep and tangled ascent and returned to thebeach. Dona Ignacia immediately after dinner hadfrankly asked her host for the hospitality of hisstateroom. She and her little ones must have theirsiesta, and the good lady was convinced that sohigh and mighty a personage as the Russian Cham-berlain was all the chaperon the proprieties de-manded.

Four of the party strayed along the crest in searchof the first wild pansies. Rezanov and Conchalooked under the sloping roof of brittle leaves intodim falling vistas, arches, arbors, caverns, a forestin miniature with natural terraces breaking the pre-cipitous wall of the island.

"I should like to live here," said Concha defi-nitely.

"It would make a fine estate for summer life--orfor a honeymoon." He smiled down upon his com-panion, who stood very tall and straight and proudbeside him. "If you conclude to marry your littleBostonian no doubt he will buy it for you," he said.

If he had hoped to see a look of blank dismayafter his hours of devotion he was disappointed.She made a little face.

"I do not think I could stand a desert island withthe good Weeliam. For that I should prefer oneof my own sort--Ignacio, or Fernando. Betterstill, I could come here and be a hermit."

"A hermit?"

"In some ways that would suit me very well. Allhuman beings become tiresome, I find. I shall havea little hut just below the crest where I can lookfrom my window right into the woods that are soquiet and green and beautiful. That is a thoughtthat has always fascinated me. And when I walkon the crest I can see all the beauty of mountainand bay. What more could I want? What morehave you in your world when you know it too well,senor?"

"Nothing; but you might tire, too, of this."

"What of it? It would be the gentle sad ennuiof peace, not of disillusion, senor. How I wish youwould tell me all you know of life!"

"God forbid. And do not remind me of ennui anddisillusions. I have forgotten both in California.Perhaps, after all, I shall not return to St. Peters-burg. There is a vast empire here--"

"But it is not yours or Russia's to rule, Excel-lency," she interrupted him softly.

He did not color nor start, but met her eyes withhis deep amused glance. "I, too, can dream, seno-rita. Of a great and wonderful kingdom--thatnever will exist, perhaps. I have always been calleda dreamer, but the habit has grown since I cameto this lovely unreal land of yours."

"Have you the intention to take it from us, Ex-cellency?" she asked quietly.

"Would you betray me if you thought I had?"

Her eyes responded for a moment to the mag-netism of his, and then she drew herself up.

"No, senor, I could not betray a man who hadbeen our guest, and Spain needs no assistance froma weak girl to hold her own against Russia."

"Well said! I kiss your hands, as they say inVienna. But we must sail again. I told them to be